I realized that I don't feel like saying anything lately. Polling the office at work, it doesn't seem like anyone does either. The causes were broad, from some people citing that politics were crazy, and they felt socially disconnected and uncomfortable. Largely, the weather has been to blame. 

I don't really care to reflect on myself very often, but as my own focus has been incredibly displaced to a point of frustration, it seems necessary. The similarities between complaints, which I identified probably because I  understand this concept, are undirected growth. Socially, some people wish we were growing in different ways. Others wish our turn of the season would commit and move forward as well. Everyone wants this to go somewhere, and hopefully somewhere that they want to be. As I chip away at my own life, I feel similarly in repetition fatigue. More client hours. More lines of prose. More emails. More progressive overload. Running up that hill, sometimes slipping. Slipping is anticipated. The small hope when you get some traction and can sense the summit is almost worse. For me. I tend to think, let's dig in then and push more. Then I end up in an unsustainable energy dump, and pulling back from that commitment of energy is difficult after I've had that slight view of the vista up top. 

SO, I am reframing. That the Spring is a lie. There are reasons for a turn of seasons, but if it never came, someone would intellectualize, and research and research and find a reason why and then nature would say accept it. Or, don't, because what are you gonna do about it? The reframe here is that no amount of karmic energy or commitment that I put in is an overextension that is going to guarantee any outcome. It sucks in a way not to feel I can grind my way to my destination. I know myself, though, which is an important part of the action here, and I won't give up on something that matters to me. Only things that don't and aren't worth the energy. Choking back just a little on the hike isn't going to alter the rate of Spring or rob me of my task orientation. If I could just care about something else, damn, I think I would pick things much easier to satisfy.

Anyways, something something about things you can change and things you can't and locuses of control or staring into the abyss, whatever. 

Spring and slow change is my abyss, but it's something to do, and that's cool too. I don't have the bandwidth to consider s t a g n a t i o n. Now that's a dirty word.